


Bombshell

by SlinkyMan3000



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-01
Updated: 2017-02-01
Packaged: 2018-09-21 07:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9537899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlinkyMan3000/pseuds/SlinkyMan3000
Summary: New York City is considered to be the mecca for news media and a hub for information for the United States and the rest of the world. Behind these breaking stories are the men and women that compromise the cutthroat news industry.'Bombshell' focuses around the stories of a popular news anchor and her band of up-and-coming journalists, as they cover celebrities, crime, politics and all that comes with the job of being a member of the press; that is, until, one of these reporters becomes the news themselves. AU.





	

Chaos. A frenzy, be it excited or panicked, resonated over the larger metropolitan area of New York City on that night. Of course, the city that never slept was rare to have a calm night, but the particular craze that engulfed the city that night was peculiar in its nature. Duality persisted—it was a multi-layered mess of human emotion reaching its climax.

The jam of his keys into the ignition, as his eyes shifted wearily. Neither his wife or son were awake, much to his relief, as he solemnly backed out of his space in the parking garage adjacent to his apartment complex and drove into the night. He was worried.

The nudge of her legs, bound to each other by cable as she sweated, her hope running thin. Light sobs only grazed the duct tape around her mouth, as her grief-wrenched grimace caught her in the most vulnerable position she’d ever been. Her raven hair served as a pillow of sorts as she laid against the hardwood floor in the dark room, any awareness of her surroundings being given by the small crack of light that peeked through the gap between the room’s door and the floor. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

The air of festivity, as she found herself wedged between strangers in the spacious backyard that yet still couldn’t support the mass of people in attendance. It was a welcomed claustrophobia, she’d admit; she finally felt twenty again. She could let go of her inhibitions—within reason. Or maybe without. She was pretty wrecked. 

“BRIEEEE MOOOOOOOOODE!”

The call alerted the disoriented Brie, as she struggled to make it through the crowd of people out from the designated dance area of the party. The laughing acknowledgment of Brie’s current state of sobriety was made by a voice familiar to her—that of the only a little tipsy Alicia Fox, who had tricked her yet again into taking more shots than the latter seemed willing to. Foxy, as she was known to Brie and their colleagues, embraced her friend.

“Oh my God, are you gone!?” Alicia asked, giggling.

“Am I gone? I didn’t even see you for like—an hour!”

“Brie, it’s been like ten minutes!”

“LIAR!” 

The two share a laugh, as Brie’s histrionics were out and about in her drunken stupor.

“Let’s go back inside, I need to tell you about this guy I just met—I think he’s the one!” Alicia pepped up, indulging in her own excitement. Brie let out a groan.

“Ugh, men!”

“Oh my gosh, Brie—can I have my moment!?”

“Whatever! I want another cheese square when we get in.”

“Uh no, bitch! I am not cleaning up vomit tonight…”

They headed from the backyard to the large patio connected to the house. He was still going. He felt his hands becoming clammy with his grip on the steering wheel tightening.

 _A light. Fantastic._

_…What are you doing?_ He wasn’t sure who that question was addressed to, but the obligatory pause in his instinctual motion made him consider himself. He loosened his grip. He exhaled. 

_What are you doing? ___

The crisp cool of the spring evening breeze whisked behind them as they moved forward, taking in the bright lights of New York on a Friday night. Their hands kept to themselves, each other’s company still unusual to them. They weren’t alone, as several other locals would flood the sidewalk from the same direction they walked. He broke the ice.

“So, did you enjoy yourself?”

A wry smile had formed on the face of Seth Rollins, who’d taken his colleague out to one of his favorite post-hardcore band’s shows. It was the return of the band to the particular venue for the first time in a long time.

“Nope.”

The blunt response belonged to Alexa Bliss, aforementioned colleague, who was looking forward, rather than at Rollins.

“Aw, c’mon! Not even a little bit?!” He said, with a laugh. “I mean, everyone was jumping…”

“By the time that grown men began to disregard my five-foot-two frame is when I decided that this wasn’t exactly my scene. I managed to wiggle through back to the bar, though. Those drinks weren’t cheap; I may or may not have a date tomorrow as an IOU for a martini.”

“Is that so?”

She chuckled.

“Nah. He did the thing where he asked for my number and tried to make sure it was mine, and that’s when I knew I had to call the police. Poor guy. ‘I’ve been desperate for a pretty girl to like punk rock—all those girls at EDM festivals are sluts!’”

The two shared a laugh at Alexa’s mocking of the deep voice that had given her the phrase. Schadenfreude seemed to be the biggest thing that the two had in common, to the surprise of little. 

Still, Bliss hadn’t been his first choice. He had taken a look at another colleague’s playlist on the very day he purchased tickets—but for some reason, he’d been distant lately and abruptly cancelled only a few days earlier. _Asshole. I bet they’re boning. Eugh._

She was still in disbelief. Fading in and out of consciousness and her limbs still bound, she struggled to stay awake. To stay hopeful. This had gone wrong. Really wrong. 

“AJ…”

Her eyes shot open.

Alicia and Brie had made it back onto the patio of the large estate, as Brie made herself a small fruit platter. Brie popped a grape into her mouth, her motors momentarily returning to her, as she rejoined Alicia at the bench set for the two of them. Alicia scrolled through her phone, while Brie continued to snack on grapes, watching partygoers as they passed by.

“Are you texting him now?”

“Reading Twitter. He said he had a long drive home, so I didn’t wanna bother him.”

“Maybe he wants you to keep him company on the road,” she suggests, speaking with her mouth full.

“Ohmigod, stop! I’m not calling him! Or should I?! Oh my God, what if he thinks I’m weird!?” Alicia panicked.

“M’assuming if he told you that, that that’s what he wanted you to do. Doesn’t make sense to mention it otherwise.”

“He could’ve just been being conversational, Brianna! It is Friday night, he is cute, but I am trying to enjoy my life righ—oh… my God.”

Alicia’s eyes widen as her eyes returned to her phone’s screen.

“What, did he text you?” Brie asked, laughing.

“Read this!”

Alicia lowered her phone so they both could read, as she clicked on a link. Brie let out a gasp, as the grape in her hand fell to the floor, her mouth agape.

“Do you need a ride? It’s late.” Seth offered.

“…I was going to get an Uber, but to be honest, a free ride was the reason I stuck around.” Alexa admitted, with a smug look.

The two made their way over to Seth’s silver Mazda 6, as his lights flickered, the doors unlocking. They entered the passenger and driver’s seats simultaneously, and as the doors shut, Alexa pulled her phone out of her jacket and quickly scrolled through, as Seth turned on the engine.

“…Left off of Mayflower, right?”

“Seth.”

“Hmm?”

Her blank stare at the screen descended into a look of concern as she made eye contact with Seth, urging for him to take a look for himself.

Taking it in his hand, he looks out of his curiosity, before his brow quickly furrows in confusion. Not a word is said as Seth’s mouth begins to open.

He finally turned off the ignition. In the swiftest of motions, he exited the car and shut the door. Locking it behind him, he quickly made it into the apartment complex, scaling up the stairs faster than he ever could. Kevin Owens’ worry was visible, as he made it through the long corridor, the bleak coloring of the walls’ paint and floor’s carpet not a comfortable backdrop in his current stride towards the door. Upon arriving at apartment number 7025, he banged on the door with more force than the police ever could.

“SAMI! OPEN UP! WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING!? SAMI!” Kevin roared.

He continued to bang, as the door opened. Kevin’s rage turned into confusion, as he met eyes with Finn Bálor, clad only in underwear.

A passing twang of jealousy in Finn’s sculpture-like physique filled Kevin’s eyes; it was the first time he’d seen his colleague in this state of dress, a sight likely unfamiliar to his elusive friend. _Where the fu-_

“Kev? What’s the…”

“Where the FUCK is he?!”

“I dunno, man! He left like two hours ago after he said he couldn’t sleep…”

Kevin began breathing heavily through his nostrils, his frustration boiling over. His voice began to lower, as he breathed out.

“…Did he tell you where he was going?!”

Finn’s eyes dropped, the feeling of concern seemingly contagious.

“Did he do sometin’?”

“Can I come inside?”

“’Course, man…”

Finn widened the door for Kevin to step inside, as the multitude of scenarios ran through Finn’s mind as he closed the door. _What are you doing?_

He sat in the basement of his favorite of the downtown libraries he would frequent. Of the ones in the city, it’s the ones students would visit the least. He sat silent, his latte growing cold. Contemplatively staring at the computer screen, he rubbed the red of his beard. He couldn’t stop looking. _Why_ couldn’t he stop looking?

_What did I do?_


End file.
